


The Dark Magician & The Fool

by lostiaf



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Child Abuse, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, F/F, Family, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Out of Character, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Slow Burn, Strained Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27938967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostiaf/pseuds/lostiaf
Summary: 'Aunt, look...Sh...Shadow Weaver is...gone...', she finally uttered, obviously having difficulties in telling what in the name of the First Ones was actually going on.'Gone?...', Castaspella replied dully, unconsciously holding Glimmer closer, who could only nod in agreement, lifting her head to see her aunt, observing her with glassy eyes.A sigh escaped Glimmer's lips.'Auntie...Shadow Weaver...s..sacrificed herself...'
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora & Catra & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Castaspella & Glimmer (She-Ra), Castaspella & Micah (She-Ra), Castaspella & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Castaspella/Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Micah & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)
Comments: 90
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Lovlies!  
> This is my first story on here and though I'm just terrible at summaries, I hope you'll go on reading and like this little piece.  
> Castaspella's and Shadow Weaver's interactions were so damn intriguing and I couldn't help myself, so I wrote this.  
> I apologise in advance if the characters are, well, out of character.

'So...Where exactly is Shadow Weaver?', Castaspella asked with a smile, after hugging both, a flustered Catra and a laughing Adora. Soon enough she realized though, that she probably shouldn't have.

Suddenly the pair grew silent. All traces of happiness gone at this innocent, yet at the same time, risky question. Catra let her head drop, lips quivering in a pitiful way, her brows furrowed and her eyes full of hurt. Noticing this, Adora immediately clung to her girlfriend's waist, wanting to be strong and offer her support to Catra, but, unfortunately, failing and turning her head while gazing into pure nothingness, tears threatening to fall. This was the first indicator that something must not have been quite right.

Castaspella did not understand, and felt miserable for causing the two girls, whom she loved dearly, to feel tarnished. It was never her intention and she could only hope that they were aware of that.

What had happened? Why were they acting this way?

Her internal debate about whether she should just shut up and console them or rather go on asking, but doing so fast in order to close this topic as soon as possible, came to an end when Glimmer took her aunt's hand and guided her away from the heartbreaking scene in front of her. Meanwhile Bow hugged Catra and Adora tightly, rubbing their backs in a comforting way.

'Glimmer..I...I didn't mean to make them sad, I-', Castaspella finally started after having observed the group, her own urge to cry welling up quickly inside of her.

Her niece talked unusually quiet and began averting her eyes, not wanting to meet Castaspella's firm, expectant expression. 'Auntie...I get that your curious, and I know you'd never hurt Adora and Catra on purpose... but...maybe it would be best if we didn't mention Shadow Weaver around them for the time being.'

Now she was just entirely confused and worried as well, but before she could open her mouth to ask once again, Glimmer gently threw her arms around her aunt's midriff, burying her face in her chest. Shakingly stroking her niece's head, Castaspella tried hard not to panic and sqeezed Glimmer tightly to herself in an attempt to offer some kind of comfort.

'Aunt, look...Sh...Shadow Weaver is...gone...', she finally uttered, obviously having difficulties in telling what in the name of the First Ones was actually going on.

'Gone?...', she replied dully, unconsciously holding Glimmer closer, who could only nod in agreement, lifting her head to see her aunt, observing her with glassy eyes.

At that Castaspella's face fell even more, if that was even possible. What was that supposed to mean? A frown graced her gentle feautures as she went on. 'Gone as in?... Ran away...? She left us, didn't she?...'

A sigh escaped Glimmer's lips. She was just feeling helpless at this point and didn't want to explain the situation either, but she figured it would be best to not keep her stubborn aunt waiting.

'Auntie...Shadow Weaver...s..sacrificed herself... A monster attacked when they were about to reach the heart and....and Shadow Weaver...she...', the young woman had to swallow. It was so damn painful to see her aunt's expression shift to something Glimmer could hardly recognize. The cheerful, enthusiastic, bubbly Castaspella who never lost hope, seemed so hopeless and drained for once in her life. The color of her face changed more and more every second that passed, leaving her to look like a complete wreck, pale, cold, empty and hurt. It was scary, to say the least, but Glimmer continued. She wanted to get this over with. '...she told Catra to take Adora to the heart...and defeated the monster...unfortunately, in turn, she gave her own life...but without her it maybe wouldn't have been possible for Adora and Catra to reach the heart... for us to win...for us all to be fine now...She did something good for once, Aunt. That's what's important... _right_?'

Castaspella didn't hear, chosing to stare holes in the ground instead of facing her niece. After a few very heavy breaths she grabbed Glimmer by the shoulders, having to hold on to something, lips trembling, eyes moving erratically around, and began stuttering things Glimmer couldn't really make out.

'I-...no...S..she's...fine!... She's _Shadow Weaver_!...How?...'

Micah, who had been watching from a distance, noticed how shell-shocked his sister suddenly seemed and how his daughter looked distraught at her normally composed aunt falling apart right in front of her, not being able to do a thing to prevent it.

'Casta!...', he called out before rushing to her side and giving her the support she desperately needed, holding her, letting her fist his clothes, wanting her to calm down. But she didn't. Castaspella didn't calm down. She couldn't.

She was scared of her own reaction. It was getting harder to breathe and each time she tried, there was lesser air filling her lungs than a mere second before. It pained her, her throat dried and, without a warning, she abruptly found herself sobbing, big tears leaving dark prints on her rosy cheeks, knees buckling, about to give in and let her crash to the ground if it wasn't for her big brother who still wouldn't let go of her.

Her voice cracked in a gut-wrenching fashion and sounded bitter when she couldn't help herself and simply denied that anything had happened to the powerful, witty sorceress, repeating on and on how she was surely alive, surely just teleported herself and the monster away and would certainly return, a sarcastic remark ready on her tongue, waiting to make fun of Castaspella.

The whole situation was pathetic. Micah and Glimmer both had the same thing in mind 'Why is she reacting so strongly?', but neither of them dared to voice their thoughts, not wanting to let Castaspella, who was already a shivering, frail mess, suffer even more. And even if they'd ask, Castaspella herself didn't have a clue as to why she was like this. She despised the woman. The woman who had hurt her loved ones. The woman who had manipulated and abused everyone. She didn't even deserve to be mourned. She didn't even deserve Castaspella spilling her tears the way she did right then.

Father and daughter stuck to exchanging questioning glances, Glimmer furrowing her brows and letting her eyes rest on her crying aunt, whose state confused her more than anything. Micah on the other hand was frightened and let his sister listen to his heartbeat, which always used to calm her when she was a child. This time though, she couldn't even hear it. She was so weak that she just laid limp in his arms, still struggeling to breathe, the tears never stopping.

'C...Can I... Can I go searching for her? I'll find her...I'm certain...', she whispered after a while, blinking her red, puffy eyes.

And Glimmer couldn't help herself... 'Aunt Casta. You are overreacting and you don't know what you're saying. Why do you force me to spell it out for you? Shadow Weaver is _dead_. You must keep yourself together. '

This only earned her a glare from Castaspella, who was now trying to stand up before her niece lifted a hand, stopping her right her tracks, and shook her head in a dismissive way.

'Please, don't even _try_ to get up...You have to rest, auntie...', she now breathed out gently, with more compassion, touching Castaspella's cheek . 'Catra brought her mask...You think Shadow Weaver would have left her mask behind if she was so sure that she would survive...? It's better this way...she hurt us all too much...especially Adora and Catra...', then she frowned slightly, staring into her aunt's eyes, her doubts coming back when she noticed something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

'Why do you react this way?...'

The head sorceress felt a pit forming in her stomach and swallowed down another sob, not wanting to cause any more suspisions. Being confronted like this was the last thing she expected from her niece, yet here they were, and Castaspella had no answer to give.

'I...I don't know...it's...shocking..'

One could easily see how Glimmer's patience slowly began to subside, hurt and dissapointment filling her darkened eyes instead, replacing the compassion that was there a few seconds ago.

'You...You didn't even cry this way when Mom died...', she spat out in a dangerously low voice which made Castaspella feel a shiver down her spine, Glimmer's demeanour reminding her so much of her sister-in-law.

'I did...Y-You cannot accuse me like this...I didn't cry next to you for your own good, but this doesn't mean I didn't grieve for Angela...', she stuttered, wrapping her arms around herself. Her brother watched their encounter and decided that it was enough. After sweetly telling his daughter to go and support her friends, he turned to his sister, being relieved that they finally had the privacy they needed.

With a reassuring, but simultaneously somewhat anxious smile he rubbed his thumb against her damp cheek before placing a gentle kiss. 'Casta...you can tell me everything...you know that, right?'

Her eyes began to water again, and she lowered her gaze. She didn't have the guts to look at him. His subtle request was clear as day, and she was aware that she couldn't deny that something was up. He knew her way too well for that, even if they had been seperated for a long time. He was still her big brother after all.

Silence. Micah gave her all the time she needed.

Castaspella licked her dry lips and slowly opened her mouth, her shame evident on her, now alabaster, face.

'S...something...happened...in the Whispering Woods...'


	2. Infected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castaspella relives her voyage with Shadow Weaver.

'Slow **down**!', Castaspella called out, clearly already irritated. Her dress ripped when it got caught on a branch, inconveniently exposing her left leg. It took her all of her might to not start screaming in frustration. Just half an hour ago she embarassingly tripped and fell head first, right on her face, causing it to become scratched and her nose to bleed. Even then the dark magician had not cared to walk slower, making fun of her companion in her usual, undignifying fashion. Though, she had turned around to quickly examine whether Castaspella was able to continue or not, which was only done from a distance, but nontheless, it was proof that she noticed. This unfortunately didn't mean that she gave Castaspella time to pause and clean herself up.

The head sorceress could only be described as an actual mess, the blood from before had dried beneath her nose and on her lips, she was exhausted, tired and upset. Definitely not the best combination, especially not when stumbling around in the woods, trying to keep up with the one and only Shadow Weaver, or how Castaspella titled her: ' _most petty and apathetic person alive_ '. Said sorceress merely chuckled darkly, and stopped her fast pace in order to look at the annoyed woman. It was hilarious, Shadow Weaver didn't think she'd have that much fun, especially not now, with the world falling apart and coming to its end. Casta's antics delighted her in a way, even if she would never admit this out loud. Letting her eyes roam the other's now exposed skin, she hummed a bit, her own annoyance shining through.

'What a sight to see... The head sorceress of Mystacor in ripped clothing. Say, has anyone else ever had the honor to put their eyes upon that silky skin of yours?', she teased and Castaspella could feel her cheeks heat up. Whether it was from anger or something else, she didn't know.

'Could you possibly stop staring!? Ugh, I can't believe it...', she mumbled, trying to hide her leg as best as she could. Narrowing her eyes, she huffed air through her nose and clenched her fists until her knuckles went white. ' **This** is your all your fault!', she complained, wildly gesturing her face and clothing. 'I told you to slow down, but you're too arrogant to listen to me!'

'Now now, head sorceress... Don't get loud with me, it's _awfully_ _disrespectful_ , isn't it? You behave like a foolish _child_ with all your outbursts. It would actually be my duty to put you in your place, but since I'm simply not in the mood for meaningless bickering, you're practically dismissed... and instead of being grateful, you raise your voice at _me_...do not make me regret my choices', the older woman drawled, voice getting lower by the second. Castaspella swallowed a non-existing lump in her throat and furrowed her brows.

'I have a **name** , you know. I'd rather you used it. Ha... be grateful? What you're doing is not even the bare minimum of how people should behave around each other, then again, how should you know? You're deprived of social interaction, I almost forgot', she bit out then, turning her head away and crossing her arms, thinking she struck a nerve. Shadow Weaver eyed her through the slits of her mask for a long moment before suddenly leaning on a tree, unbothered as ever. In a firm voice she said something Castaspella had been waiting for for what felt like hours.

'I grant you a break. Sit down.', was like a spell, prompting the younger woman to immediately slump down on a log. Kicking her heels off, the head sorceress parted her lips, creating an 'o' shape and began massaging her feet and legs. Pain was inflicted on her face.

It was...kind of pleasent to watch? Not necessarily the painful expression but rather...Castaspella in general. Shadow Weaver did not know how to explain it to herself, but she couldn't move her eyes away and started gravitating towards the other woman. But before she could open her mouth to say something, she was interrupted by none other than Casta herself, who frowned and kept her gaze low.

'Why...do you need me?'

That was a somewhat unexpected question. So she didn't care to answer, secretly hoping that Castaspella would elaborate further. And she did. The dark magician was glad that she already could predict the woman's behaviour so well. Only for the sake of using this information for her own benefit, as usual.

'You're powerful...you say you're gifted...and I agree that you are. And you tell me I'm a _disgrace_ to Mystacor...that it has fallen so much, desperate enough to make someone like me, inept and childish, head sorceress. Such a dissapointment... since I couldn't be like my perfect brother...', she uttered a bit more quiet. The words seemed to have had an effect on her. It was evident that she had been thinking about them since they carelessly slipped from Shadow Weaver's cold lips...And they also hurt?

Yes, they definitely hurt, since it felt as if someone finally dared to voice their thoughts about her, which, in her opinion, most likely many people shared. She would never be what Micah is. She had actually come to accept that years ago, but now that the dark sorceress kept pressing salt to her wound, she couldn't help but fall back into her old patterns, thoughts about not being worthy haunting her. Shadow Weaver sighed and placed her hand on the younger woman's knee. And though it didn't sound like she was trying to be nice, her intentions were clear, as always.

'Let me help you', she nearly whispered, yet her voice stayed keen. It sounded like some sort of twisted apology, since, according to Castaspella, Shadow Weaver wouldn't EVER properly be sorry for anything. She mentally wasn't able to and it would just plainly be out of character. That's also why she was having trouble believing and trusting her in general, so, logically, she already prepared to snap back at her. Of course the older woman had the ability to sense this and gave her faithless companion a tired sigh before suddenly touching her cheek. 

And then the world started spinning. At the first contact the head sorceress already felt like she was being burned alive. She mistook this as a sign of her rage, but, fast enough, she got way too dizzy to even think about these type of things. In a matter of miliseconds she, without thinking twice, leaned into the touch like a needy little child which was absolutely deprived of affection. The witty remark she had planned on saying already forgotten. It was just them in the etheral lights of the Whispering Woods, enveloped in the warmth of one another despite their bodies never wrapping or touching the way both of them somehow seemed to crave in that badly timed moment. They stayed like this. For how long? Neither of them knew. The most embarassing thing though must have been that Shadow Weaver was now acutely aware of the effect she had on Castaspella... 

_This might come in handy, later..._

It was like a fever. The younger woman felt as if she was getting infected. That's when she decided to pull away, a bit too late to still make it seem like she was upset at being touched. 

**_I will not let this happen..._ **

As quickly as the moment came, it was gone again. The spell was broken. But was the inexplicable feeling still there?

'Do **NOT** put your claws on me.', Casta finally managed to hiss. Shadow Weaver was having none of it and patted Castaspella's leg. 'Are you,' she provocatively but gently put her hand on her once again and took great pleasure in how the sorceress' face flushed and her painted lips parted, ' _sure_ you don't want me to touch you?'

This question, of course, could easily be interpreted differently which was exactly the reason for Castaspella's cheeks turning a deep crimson colour and her heart nearly, painfully beating out of her chest. She cursed herself internally when her companion began to openly laugh at her in a sinister way. The worst part, Castaspella had no idea as to why she felt like this. Must probably be because she NEVER let anyone touch her like this. While becoming ashamedly aware of this, she pressed her lips into a thin line. Her inner conflict was clearly showing on her face and made Shadow weaver earn some sense of pride which led Casta over the edge. In a sudden rush of boldness, she, albeit a bit shaky and insecure, presented a deal. 'I'll let you touch me...I-if you let me touch **you**. It's as simple as that.', she exclaimed with a smug grin tugging at her plump lips, and even though the older woman was a bit taken aback by the request, she quickly regained her composure, shook her head, amused, and tsked while continuing to pet the other's knee, a wicked smile creeping up her face as well.

' _You wish_...', was the growled response, and the witch proceeded to teasingly lift her mask a bit. With slow motions she stuck out her tongue and licked her thumb which utterly confused Castaspella, who was as still as a statue, trying to steal a glance at the face she desired to lay her eyes upon for so long. It didn't work, but she didn't really have any time to be dissapointed either, because, at once, Shadow Weavers salivated thumb found the younger woman's upper lip which send a shiver down her spine and almost made her moan, but thankfully she only let out a sharp breath.

_Oh First Ones...what is she **doing**?... _

An answer came right away 'Since you're too _incompetent_ to do so, I'm cleaning your face, you fool', combined with her literally massaging the other's lips now, drawing circles which somehow led to Castaspella blushing even more, her ears and cheeks now painted in an unhealthy colour. The dark sorceress almost burst out laughing at her victory, when a very muddled, overheating Castaspella parted her lips and stared at her with hooded eyes, lashes fluttering, obviously somewhat smitten and awaiting. 'Oh...someone's _eager_ hm?', she purred almost, her voice enveloping the other in poison, causing her to shudder and fist her ripped robes.

That's when Shadow Weaver decided that she could get used to teasing like this. Though she would refuse to admit, she found adoration in the way Casta eyed her and it made her hungry.

Soon the younger sorceress expectantly pulled away again, coming back to her senses, she jumped up, almost toppling over, and shouted, hoping that her scarlet cheeks would seem like prove for her anger rather than her... what was it? Arousal?

_**No** , definitely **NOT** that! _

'I demand that you **quit** touching me! You have caused enough harm with that,' she made a rather disgusted face and waved her hand dismissively ' **toxic** dark magic of yours! Enough is enough and I won't fall for your games!'

Without respecting any boundries and or Casta's personal space, Shadow Weaver grabbed her wrist firmly, not enough to hurt, only to make her stay, and began berating her.

'Are you honestly even more _braindead_ than I gave you credit for? The apocalypse is at our feet and all you care about is your _childish_ tantrums. I will not waste my time quarreling with someone of _your_ calibre. If you want something, use your words and clearly state what it is that you desire. Otherwise I'm ordering you to shut it. Do not toy with my nerves, head sorceress. This is my last warning.'

Silence.

The younger enchantress was perplexed and did not really have an idea about what would happen next, but she caved in, feeling parts of her dignity fly into the sky and vanish.

 _For Mystacor..._ , she told herself.

_For Etheria..._

_**For my family...** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy I'm back!  
> I have to say this, you guys are so damn sweet and supportive and I really didn't have the best week, but reading your comments made me so joyful and energetic. That's why I want to thank all of you who liked the last chapter, once more ❤


	3. A Little Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get an insight of how they manage after Shadow Weaver's 'death'

Micah blinked a few times, utterly confused as he shuffled closer to his sister, who was now laying in a king-sized bed in one of Bright Moon's guest rooms after having yet another complete breakdown, which almost caused her to lose her consciousness. It was still hard for Castaspella to keep her swollen eyes open, but she knew that her brother only wanted the best for her, and really, who was she to turn him down? So they discussed, the speaking mainly done by Casta as Micah listened to her telling him about her encounters with Shadow Weaver, which, oddly enough, seemed to soothe her pain. He was uncomfortable, to say the least, but didn't dare showing it as to not hurt his sister even more in her already vulnerable state. But how contented could one be when your own sister is clearly experiencing some kind of heartache for your former teacher, who was on top of that also an abuser and a war criminal.

Everything progressively scared him, especially the way Castaspella would get up at night and stumble around in Shadow Weaver's garden, but didn't ever find her way back into the palace. Nearly every morning one of the guards would find her curled up on a chair, cold and dishevelled, her nose and eyes red from crying through yet another night. The little daisies that were neatly tucked behind her ear each morning were a detail worth noting, at least according to Glimmer, and Micah began wondering whether the witch had cursed his baby sister. There could be no other explanaition for all this. It must have been a curse from the dark sorceress herself.

'Someone has to take care of her garden!', Casta would argue almost every day, voice gone husky from all the sobbing, trying to convince her niece and her brother, who were naturally worried about her strange behaviour. They had decided to keep her at Bright Moon, not trusting her mental state enough to let her go back to Mystacor to be on her own.

Catra and Adora were also learning to accept and manage the pain in order to eventually move on. Both in their own ways. Sometimes they even met up with Casta and talked about their collective sorrow. Relatively quickly it came to be that Catra also warmed up to the head sorceress and, albeit being a bit inexperienced and somewhat reluctant, decided that she was the best partner to talk about her trauma of always being compared to Adora and, in consequence, never feeling enough. It was suprising to her when she found out that this was an experience they both shared, as the older woman had also lived through the same merciless comparing done between herself and Micah. Castaspella cared very much for the girls and watched over them as if they were formed from the most precious and fragile material to ever exist. Sometimes Catra would scream and lash out, letting all her aggression and frustration out in bitter cries and punches against pillows (sometimes walls), which, again, showed Castaspella just how much the girl needed a hand to hold, a healthy relationship with a guardian who truly only wanted to make her feel comfortable and loved, something Shadow Weaver never was. Even though the head sorceress had lost most of her energy, she always made sure that the girls were in good health, eating and sleeping well, contrariwise to her own, pathetic and unregulated way of life. And, no doubt, Adora and Catra were more than thankful for all of this, however they couldn't help but simultaneously feel somewhat betrayed when they witnessed the way Casta knowlingly grieved for the woman who hurt them so badly and ruined their lives with her poisonous acts. Because, in a way, it appeared as if the enchantress had forgiven the dark witch for her horrendous and sickening behaviour, although it was never her right to do so in the first place.

In an act of solidarity, everyone tried desperately to hold Castaspella together, who in turn, gave no effort whatsoever in wanting to get better or anything of the like. It seemed as if she gave herself up. Her family and friends were truly concerned, but Casta's unwillingness to 'simply' move on made them all a bit upset, mainly Glimmer, who almost lost it each time she noticed her aunt spilling her tears, was genuinely angry with her. If Shadow Weaver had been alive, she wouldn't have been able to escape their wrath either. She would've had to deal with a raging Glimmer, who wouldn't have hesitated **one second** to make her life a living hell. That's what you get for messing with the queen's friends and family.

-

'Aunt Casta... It can't go on like this, you _need_ psychological help', Glimmer stated in a stressed but caring tone.

Her aunt stared at the wall and silently sniffed, already getting emotional again. Kissing her temple, Micah massaged his sister's hands in a calming fashion and made an effort to moderately bring her to relax.

'Casta...Glimmer is right. We're all so worried about you, and w-'

He was interrupted by her hushed voice, raspy from refusing to talk the entire day long. It always managed to make his heart shatter when it got like this.

'I just...feel', she inhaled, buying herself some time to find the right words in order to not concern them any further, '...a bit out of it, that's all. No need to worry.'

This caused Glimmer to drop her head in defeat and clasp her aunt's hand tightly, compelling her to peep up at her displeased niece.

With a gentle smile creeping up her face she continued, despite being in the mood for climbing up the walls.

'Auntie. We all have seen how you suffer. There is no need to hide it, it's not like you _could_ even hide it...', she realized how rude this sounded and swiftly composed herself 'Uhh...what I _meant_ to say is, we only want to help you, and we would be glad if you...cooperated with us. Otherwise it is like...REALLY hard?... Yes, unnecessarily hard.'

Alas, Glimmer really wasn't the best person to make such suggestions when being about to lose her temper, so it came across a bit unsincere. It was horrible, and Micah had to mentally hold himself back from pinching the bridge of his nose and, instead, settled for a flimsy smile. Thankfully, Casta didn't even pay him any mind.

'Glimmer... please darling... let it be. I want to sleep...', the frail woman whispered while averting her gaze. Her face became as won as her voice, and it was clear that she soon would be on the verge of losing her consciousness anew.

Glimmer's patience was coming to an end. After rapidly shaking her head in an attempt to get rid of her anger, she glared at her aunt.

'Just...wait, alright? I'll be right back. I'm sure you'll talk then', she exclaimed with a forced smile and then she teleported herself away. A few seconds later she reappeared with a black cloth in her hands - no, there was something wrapped _inside_ the cloth...

The object was silently put into Castaspella's lap, only then did she actually check it out. She iffily glanced at her niece, who was urging her with a certain stare to unwrap whatever it was, and then at her brother, who looked uneasy, his usual serene demeanour gone.

So she did. She silently removed the cloth when something red met her eye. Immediately recognizing the colour, Casta began unpacking rather fast and almost gawked at the broken pieces of a metal mask she had envisioned all too well for the last two and a half weeks, presented in front of her. It almost caused her to choke on her own tears yet again and she put a hand over her mouth for the sake of (unsuccessfully) stifling a gut-wrenching sob. With shaking fingers she stroked the outlines of the two slits, through which a certain dark sorceress used to scowl at her. It made her heart-beat irregular and drained her of what little vitality she had left in her, now lifeless looking, body.

That's when Micah finally realised. In sudden panic he vigorously grabbed his sister by the shoulders and pressed her to focus on him.

'D-did she put you under a spell?' 

Well, that question was unexpected. Glimmer eyed them, promtly frightened as well, and Castaspella could only cluelessly peer at her brother through fluttering eyelids. A sob escaped her.

'Casta. Answer me, please. Did you fall asleep next to that woman?'

And another sob. This time it sent violent tremors through her whole body.

Micah's eyes were full of tears and his lips trembled when he interrogated further.

'Look...I...I know it's hard to talk about this... but you have to. Bunny, we just...', he drew a deep breath in. 'We just lost Angella...I can't lose you too...'

'Dad, what does that **mean**?!', Glimmer shouted in fear.

Casta's pupils grew wide and she held onto his arms as her vision became clouded. She desperately wanted to form words, but was incapable of moving her lips. Micah's expectant tone rang in her ears as she endeavored to concentrate. He instantly took notice and decided that he had to act even faster.

'Ok. Shake your head or nod, alright? You don't have to talk. Did you _sleep_ next to her?' he phrased steadily as to guarantee that she would understand.

She weakly nodded and clutched the hand that was offered from her niece, who was now wholly alarmed.

With laboured breaths she shut her eyes and nodded silently.

Another realisation dawned on Micah and he almost threw up thinking about it.

'Did... did you two... have an _intimate encounter_?'

 _That_ touched a sore spot and Casta opened her petrified eyes again, streaks of tears staining her cheeks. Her grip tightened. 

Glimmer's face paled and she shot her aunt a look of disbelief.

All was in a haze, but Castaspella knew that sooner or later it would've come to daylight anyways. And 'this was a matter of life or death', she heard her brother yell in horror.

There was no choice. 

She nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaandd another chapterr, since I have enough time now. Feel free to leave kudos and comment ❤


	4. What Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they (try to) discuss what really happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this one's looong, but a bit more lighthearted at least. Hope you enjoy!💕

A sudden rage filled Micah, one that he had been trying to surpress for a long time now. His baby sister, crying in his arms once again, shivering and delicately whispering silent apologies, was losing more and more of her energy each passing minute. Her heart was aching and he could sense it so clearly, that it began to hurt his own. Nontheless, the only thing he could do was cradle her, hold her close and silently try to detect whether there was dark magic infused in her body, her blood, veins, heart and mind or not. Even if there was, Micah, as a matter of fact, wouldn't _exactly_ know what to do. Despite being one of the most talented sorcerers, he didn't know how to get dark magic out of someone's body, let alone make sure that the person would certainly heal and become their old self again. This was mainly a consequence of being inexperienced in this field. Nobody had knowledge about this, if they had, maybe they would've even been able to prevent Light Spinner from creating her alter ego, Shadow Weaver. It made him feel so useless when he glided his hand around his sister's midsection in hopes of sensing no anomaly within her core at all. With tears sliding down his cheeks into his greying beard, he bitterly cursed himself and, especially Shadow Weaver, under his breath. _Guilt_ is was he felt. Guilt for not having been able to protect his sister the way he promised her and their parents the day she was born.

Glimmer was no help either since she didn't even do them the honour of mutely letting her frustrations out. Instead she stomped around the room, tears making her eyes appear glassy, eyebrows knitted together as she swore out loud. It was hard to describe all the disgust and disappointment she felt when she glared at her aunt, the shameful nod she gave at the even more shameful question her father had asked her caused Glimmer to feel sick to her stomach.

'What the **FUCK**?! What the actual **FUCK**?!', she screamed while nearly tearing her hair out in anger, making Castaspella wince in her effete shape. Micah wasn't all too pleased with this reaction and frowned deeply, scolding his daughter for being so insensitive. 'Glimmer, would you please be quiet? Your aunt is really not in a condition to be screamed at right now. Plus...', he sighed and his tone became milder. 'I'm sure it would be best if no one found out about this-this...uhh...m-mishap?' He really had no idea how to title the current situation and, unfortunately, his warning didn't change Glimmer's mood at all. She spun around fast until she was facing the two of them again, fists clenched at her sides, already prepared to rant.

'Dad.', she inhaled in an attempt to calm herself. 'Dad... You cannot tell me that you aren't mad at her! I mean how did she - how did she sleep with...- What the fuck!', she repeated with a quivering lip, which only earned her another glare from Micah, who actually understood his daughter very well, but was also aware that it was not the right time to dwell on this issue.

'Language, my dear...', and his scowl was replaced with a patient smile. 'I know it's hard for us to understand why she did what she did, and I'm also very...uh... _surprised_ by this turn of events, but she must've had a reason, even if it was only out of hoplessness or exasperation. Though I must say, I never expected her to...you know... above all not with...Shadow Weaver...', he obviously had difficulties while talking about the state of affairs.

As if arranged, they both fell silent at once. Eventually Micah successfully detected what seemed to be the source of Castaspella's weariness. Indeed, it was dark magic, alas Micah couldn't identify how deep it was carved into her heart. Or was it somewhere else? Provisionally he drew a spell which was mostly effective when fighting 'common' dark magic. Albeit being a bit sceptical, he tried to dissolve the darkness within her, even if it would only be a small amount, and carefully placed his gentle hands right over the enchantress' heart. In his head he desperately prayed for it to work.

Luckily it appeared as if his magic did wonders, since, after already two attempts, they witnessed Casta's face gaining back some of its natural milky and rosy colour. Micah could ultimately rest, relieved that he was at least of some help to his baby sister. There were still questions on his mind though. What did this mean? How could he heal her thorougly, and to a greater extend, would she ever be the same enthusiastic and energetic Casta she was two and a half weeks ago?

-

After what felt like an eternity, Castaspella cracked her deep, brown eyes open and blinked rapidly, wishing for the blurriness to vanish. When she managed to get her focus back, she was met with two very expectant gazes, belonging to none other than the two people she loved most in this world. Silently she replied to them with an adoring, but tired grin, her eyes finally sparkling with hope and life again, for the first time since Shadow Weaver's passing. Micah had difficulties fathoming how all of this worked, but he was more than happy to see the light returning to her. However he wasn't that positive concerning the query whether she'd stay this way or not.

It didn't take her long to understand why her brother and niece were ogling at her in such a flabbergasted fashion that almost made her giggle. Suddenly she recalled everything that occured after finding out about Shadow Weaver's sacrifice up until the conversation they had shared before she had drifted into a deep slumber once more. That's when she internally pleaded for the ground to just open up and swallow her whole. It still tarnished her, mercilessly bruised and burned her insides. The darkness may have subsided, still, the pain was as strong as in the beginning.

The burden of her secret now gone, she finally felt as if at least a small weight was pulled from her shoulders, yet she was still rather dazed and didn't desire discussing the matter any further. Unexpectedly, she recieved a caring kiss on her forehead. 'Bunny, are you alright?', her brother asked tentatively and she could only nod, warmly wrapping her arms around him and hiding in the crook of his neck, silently smiling to herself when she felt him squeeze her tightly to him as if to make sure she was truly feeling well. It was an exchange of an unspoken but grateful 'thank you' and an equally silent but kind-hearted 'don't mention it'.

And although the young queen was still rather irritated, she regarded her little family with such adoration that it could make anyone melt on the spot.

Nontheless, the forsaken conversation ought to continue and Casta practically saw in front of her, how the universe played its cards right against her will and she realized when noticing her brother's pitiful expression and Glimmer's angry stare, that she had to prepare for another unwanted interview.

 _Let's just get this over with_.

As if on cue, she was hit with her niece's fiery voice, which induced her to unconsciously swallow a lump that had newly formed in her throat.

'Everything makes so much sense now, auntie. When we arrived at the camp and you and Shadow Weaver came shortly after, being all **_teasy_** and **_flirty_** with each other', Casta wiped her gathering tears. 'I just _knew_ something was up! It made no sense that she was nice to you and let you explain the failsafe in 'horror-story fashion', but now it does! It makes so much sense, because she liked you, because you two had _sex_ in the Whispering Woods while the world was about to fucking end!', Glimmer was panting with reddened cheeks after shouting around, having to catch her breath.

As usual, Micah held Castaspella's trembling hands in support, but this time things were bound to go differently. The head sorceress seemed a lot calmer than before, and observed her niece with widening pupils and parted lips, obviously somewhat appalled. In her voice there was a new found confidence, though it still sounded slightly wobbly. 'Glimmer, _what_ are you saying?... Neither did Sh-Shadow Weaver like me', she almost got choked up again, but quickly composed herself. 'Nor did we...how _vulgar_! Nor did we sleep together! Where do you get these ideas from?'

_What?_

Dumbfounded, Glimmer and Micah stared at Castaspella whose face flushed alarmingly fast. First it was Micah's turn to voice his confusion. 'B-But your response to 'did you two have an intimate moment' was 'yes'! You _nodded_ didn't you? Or am I getting old? And there _is_ dark magic inside of you. You...She infected you...'

His sister huffed air through her nose and crossed her arms protectively over her chest while choosing to rather inspect the lavender carpet than looking at her family. 'No, you're right, I _did_ nod, but there are... _further_ intimate acts... other than sex, I mean. And I thought you two knew me! Do I seem like a person who would...just jump straight into Shadow Weavers bed the moment we two were left alone? Seriously?' It didn't pass Micah and Glimmer how Casta completely ignored the fact that she had literally gotten poisoned by the dark sorceress.

Nervous laughter escaped the young queen and she aggressively shook her head, not knowing if she should believe her aunt or not. 'Wait... Wait so what did you do then? When talking about _intimate acts_ you're probably not referring to like...I don't know! Holding hands and stuff, right? Cause if _that's_ intimate, let me tell you, Bow and I-', she caught herself, slapping her own mouth shut before revealing further information about her relationship with her new boyfriend. She stopped right in her tracks, now too embarrassed to continue whatever she was rambling about, as her dad and aunt glared at her in similar way, one brow cocked, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. At that Glimmer could only chuckle nervously, trying to bring the focus back to Castaspella.

'S-Soooo, what _did_ you two do, auntie?', she accusingly asked, mirroring their gestures. Micah's gaze shifted to his sister and he dug his fingers into his arms in order to prepare himself for whatever unsettling answer they might recieve. 

Casta twisted her thumbs, refusing to even glimpse at them. 'Uh... well actually...it's rather anticlimactic compared to what _you two_ thought I did', being the flushed and mortified mess she was, she hastily stumbled over her words, now examining the ceiling instead of her thumbs. 'I-It was...weeell... ugh! Spit it out already Casta!', she cleared her throat. 'Uhm...Should I start from the beginning, or?...' 

With a look of pure horror, Micah shook his head and hands for emphasis. 'Oh no no, bunny, we don't need the details! Or do we?...', he pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up his neck.

'Oh my goodness, you two are so awkward, no wonder I'm like this. It runs in the family!', Glimmer interrupted them with a snort. 'Also, we _need_ _ **all**_ the details, Dad. It's for understanding what Shadow Weaver did to aunt Casta, so', she exaggeratedly pointed at said woman with a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. 'It's your duty to tell us, auntie!'

Even though Castaspella was pleased about the sudden change of atmosphere, she felt uncomfortable when thinking about elaborating her make-out session with a certain sorceress, in the presence of her brother and niece. 

Thankfully, the universe (probably as a compensation for letting her experience the discomfort of having to discuss this with her family) granted her an escape when there was a sudden knock at the door and an absolutely terrified looking guard stepped into the room. 

'Your majesty...uh...th...there is something you should be informed about. It's urgent.', and even through her helmet one could notice that the woman appeared as if she'd just seen a ghost, that's how pale her face was, almost as white as her uniform.

Glimmer gulped and furrowed her brows in determination while standing in a self-assured fashion. Maybe it wasn't the time to think about such things, but Castaspella was so proud of her niece and how she'd take on every challenge and every danger to protect not just her own kingdom but also all of Etheria. She admired her dedication.

Alas, the guard's next exclamation violently ripped her right out of her thoughts and made her heart drop to a point Casta wasn't even aware it could drop to. Nothing could've prepared her for what pierced through her ears in that moment.

'It's the- the dark sorceress. We don't... uh... we found her near the Whispering Woods. _Alive_.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, SW is back! And she has a looott of explaining to do huh?


	5. W-/B-itch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Casta is bored and and wishes to talk to a certain someone.

Only a few, puny sunrays poked through the thick, grey blanket of clouds, painting Casta's room in a faint light. The air was unbearably heavy and there was a certain pressure weighing down on Bright Moon. And no, Casta didn't experience this because of another emerging headache, caused by her doubts and negative thoughts which were flooding her mind 24/7, threatening to drown her. No, it wasn't the fault of those, but more so of the monsoon that hadn't stopped the entire day long. Stangely, it seemed as if even the weather could sense that everything was bound to flip itself upside down after Shadow Weaver's 'comback'. But how would Castaspella know? They didn't allow her to associate with said sorceress.

'It's too stressful, and what did the doctor say? No unnecessary stress!'

'You're not ready. It's best if you would mentally prepare yourself first. We can't risk that you lose yourself again.'

'Talking to her will only bring you down, you know how she is. She brings people down. That's her thing.'

These were the sentences that were kept thrown at her head everytime she (a bit too eagerly) asked when she would be able to meet her. As for now, they were keeping not only Shadow Weaver, but also Castaspella locked in their respective chambers, the only difference being that Shadow Weaver's place was _actually_ called a 'prison', though everybody knew, it was just a normal guestroom, minus the cushions.

_A fading trace of Angella..._

It's been four days since her arrival and the enchantress had not gotten a single chance to talk to the dark sorceress. Deep down it was clear that her family only did this because they _cared_ , and Casta was naturally thankful that they did, but she couldn't help feeling convinced that she, infact, _was_ already mentally prepared to see the older woman who, in her opinion, probably was in dire need of some company as well. Even if she wasn't entirely ready, she just had this burning desire inside of her, and ever since she could feel the witch's presence in the palace, she could sleep and eat and laugh again... It's as if the essence of her existence had returned after having abandoned her so mercilessly. But the root of her well-being was, needless to say, not Shadow Weaver. How pathetic would _that_ be? And dangerous as well...This didn't equal that she didn't want to talk to her though. Additionally, she had already decided against wasting her new-found energy and confidence.

_Rather funny isn't it?... How you tell yourself these little white lies so you have reasons to just burst into her room even though she doesn't need you one bit. She was right. You **are** a fool... She poisened you and all you do is wonder if she's alright, must be a side effect of the dark magic then._

She groaned and, in a fluent motion, yanked the blanket over her head, not wanting to hear the annoying little taps, a sign that the rain which strongly drummed against her window most likely wasn't going to stop anytime soon. It was agonizing how slow time passed that day and she unfortunately had nothing to do, not that she could even concentrate on bringing about anything remotely productive.

_Practicing spells could be an option?_

The idea was immediately discarded after remembering Shadow Weaver drawling about how ' _sloppy_ ' Castaspella's work was, a shame really, since her brother was the most talented sorcerer she had ever witnessed. The head sorceress pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to soothe herself.

_I need to ban her from my mind. I musn't let her have that power over me. She'll have to answer for it eventually..._

-

Hours filled with sleeping went by, only interrupted when Casta had to use the restroom. Being wholly fed up with the whole shebang of not being able to visit Shadow Weaver, given that they imprisoned both of them, she promptly decided to at least speak to the woman's mask if she couldn't do so in person. Glimmer had left it there after their fairly unpleasant conversation, and Castaspella wasn't sure whether her niece had done it on purpose.

_Ugh, who cares?_

No time to ask those type of questions. There were only 45 minutes left until dinner, she had to hurry as the thought of getting caught sulking with the enemy's (?) item in her hand wasn't exactly something she was too fond of. So she got up and scurried through the space, already imagining arguements she could confront Shadow Weaver (or her mask) with.

After pulling the familiar black cloth out of her drawer she sat back on her bed and gently pulled the pieces of Shadow Weaver's mask out. Silently muttering to herself, she traced the lines and shook her head, a frown gracing her features. 'I despise you.'

_Oh...this feels somewhat refreshing..._

At once, the room's temperature seemed to drop. Casta snuggled up into her pale, lavender sleeping-robes and shut her brown eyes. Her voice gone husky and strained, she took a shaky breath. 'I despise you for making me feel this way. You wicked witch. No...No no, not witch... _bitch_. That's what you are. A bitch. A bitter, old manipulative bitch.', she whispered with such strong exasperation that it enervated her and left her looking like a vampire. Her skin near translucent, as if she hadn't seen the sun in months. It mirrored her inner state. At this point she was nothing more than a sulking, frail little flower. Without the sun. Without water. Without the affection she yearned for... maybe she needed a gardener? Someone who appreciated her and built her up the way she deserved it? 

_Don't cry... don't... That's exactly why they aren't letting you to her. You cry every second something mildly unnerving happens. Stop it._

'Why won't they let me talk to you, hm?...',  
Casta asked, sniffing and wiping her damp eyes. Then her lips curled up into a bittersweet smile that precisely showed how low she thought of herself in that moment. 'I hate this so much... I feel so alone. They won't understand me because they- oh First Ones, I sound like a teenager!', an airy laugh, which hauntingly echoed through the room, escaped her. 'They all...have someone whom they can pour their doubts or secrects or, I don't know, their hearts out to...and the other person just gladly accepts it...I'm such a moron! I'm not supposed to _need_ anybody! But...I guess it would be...rather nice...', her heartbeat fastened and she clenched the mask, holding it tightly, clinging to it in order to somehow make herself feel better, '...to be held by somebody...who isn't _obliged_ to like- to love me...'

There was something about that mask... It was as if listened to her and comforted her in a weird, slightly creepy way, it drew her in and she knew she musn't allow it...but the emotions were so strong that they compelled her to lean in, and slowly, hushedly-

' **Auntie**!!', her niece yelled while at the same time banging against the door. Being granted no time to prepare herself when the door swung open and Glimmer barged in, Castaspella could only squeak and swiftly hide her little secret under the beige sheets, one hand planted on her own chest, panting heavily. 

Glimmer enthusiasticly grinned and grabbed her aunt's arm while getting really close to her, 'Hey Auntie I- are you alright?', her expression changed quickly from excited to concerned and Casta could only furiously blush and cough, averting her eyes and giving a short but firm nod.

'Auntie. Look at me', the young queen practically ordered as she touched her cold cheek. 'You...kinda seem like you're about to throw up. Should I go get dad?' Pressing a warm kiss to Castaspella's palm, Glimmer's eyes sparkled with guilt.

She did not fancy people coming into her room unannounced, but of course, being the doting aunt she was, the head sorceress immediately melted and affectionately tapped her finger on the queen's nose. 'You know just how to wrap me around your finger, my dear, but next time I'd appreciate it if you at least _asked_ before coming inside, since I'm sure that neither you nor I would want you walking in on me.' At that, Glimmer playfully pushed her giggling aunt with a flushed face. 'Aaah! Aunt Casta there's something called a mental cinema, ever heard of it?!'

After their cheerful laughter died down a bit the younger woman became serious and cleared her throat, yet a mischievous smirk was still plastered on her lips. 'Should I tell you the reason for my excitement? I know you love gossip.' 

Castaspella's thick brows raised and she crossed her arms with an exaggerated sigh. 'Oh, I thought you were excited to see me, your aunt, you know, especially because we're in the same palace and nevertheless we meet only 3 short times a day. In all honesty, _why_ is it so hard for you to vis-'

'Auntie no, we don't have time for this right now. Dad and I have come to the conclusion to let you talk to your..uh...I mean, to Shadow Weaver. Not _your_ Shadow Weaver, only Shadow Weaver, no 'your'. That was dumb, I'm sorry', she interrupted fiercly while progressively getting more and more awkward, scratching the back of her neck, ashamed at her small slip-up.

Blinking a few times, Casta made an effort to understand whether she had begun to hear things that weren't real. Her doubts were quickly shut down by Glimmer who was now pulling at her aunts arm. 'Come on, dad said it's okay, they worked things out today. Well maybe not entirely, but they're getting there. He trusts you both to have a normal, respectful conversation. Plus I have a feeling he's still kinda uncomfortable with you two...uhh...making out and he wants you to sort that out as well. Buuut I'm sure everything is gonna be fine, don't worry!'

A sudden burst of penned up anxiety shot through Casta's body when her niece's exclamation reached her brain, but the tempation of throwing everything out the window only to run in there was too appealing. So without really considering anything exept the fact that Micah might change his mind and prohibit her from popping in on Shadow Weaver, she flung herself out of her comfortable, cozy bed and ogled with huge eyes.

'Is it still the same room as before?'

Glimmer stared back in an equally shocked fashion. 'Yes, but-'

And before she could finish her sentence, the head sorceress sped through the hall, heaving her nightgown with one hand (she wasn't aware that she was still wearing it) and only slowed down when she arrived infront of the guards who would've loved to comment on Casta's revealing and unfitting attire, yet, for obvious reason they didn't, and let her in without questioning any further.

The room was bathed in darkness. The enchantress wasn't certain if she found this calming or utterly unsettling. Besides, it was in that moment that she realized she didn't really properly plan out what she wished to tell the dark sorceress. Due to this, Casta remained rooted to the spot, her eyes newly adjusting to her surroundings.

' _It appears you came to display your gratitude?_ ', the unmistakable deep, raspy voice rang through the room and caused a shiver to run down Castaspella's spine. It was so cold and her feet were bare, yet her insides were burning, nontheless she knew that she couldn't show any kind of weakness, because it would, as per usual, be used against her, to mock her. A colourful mix, that's what her emotions were when hearing that voice. Her breathing and heartbeat quickened in an alarming manner, as it was a big challenge to hold herself back from practically _jumping_ forward to either strangle Shadow Weaver or softly put her hand on whatever part of her body she could find in the darkness. And her head was spinning so much...almost exploding, threatening to let her spill out all the things she kept locked up.

'Show yourself.' she deadpanned, struggling to not let her joy or anger take over and ruin everything.

A sinister chuckle was the answer. It sounded tired though. Castaspella wondered how well Shadow Weaver was actually doing under this cover up she chose to be in. A wave of unwanted worry washed over her. The combination of all these contradictory thoughts and feelings were too much to handle, so maddening that she was sure she was going to collapse right there. 

_Do. Not. Cry. It will make you look stupid._

Inhale.

Exhale.

'Why did you curse me?', sounded more like an order than a question, resulting in Castaspella obtaining a sense of pride for herself as she was able to pull this through in spite of the adrenaline that was boiling in her blood, rushing so brutally fast through her fragile body that she could practically hear it as if it was a nearby current.

'Why?... tell me...wicked witch. You filthy liar. You bitch! You fucking used me, I'm so...so _disgusted_ by you!'

Even though she was nearly bawling on the inside, she stayed strong, fisting her robes with shaky, clammy hands in an attempt to calm her suffering mind. A sob escaped her dry, tight throat, creating a heartbreaking, stifled sound. Her knees buckled and her whole body shook violently. Any other normal person would've stopped beleaguering right this second, but Shadow Weaver didn't. Of course she didn't.

'Calling me names won't get you anywhere, head sorceress. It doesn't faze me', the dark sorceress drawled, slowly stepping circles around Castaspella at a leisurly pace, as unnoticed as the shadows. 'I'm many things, but I'm certainly not a liar. For me there's no reason to lie. How could you imply such things?'

Castaspella's enormous desire to confront this woman and talk some sense to her was replaced with utter woe and fear. A knot in her throat and a forming pit in her stomach prevented her from vocalizing her thoughts. Still, she managed to pull herself together and snapped back. 'You are a liar. I repeat, you _cursed_ me. Ugh... Breathing the same air as you is so atrocious and it's making me sick. Your soul is so rot-'

'Ah ah ah... That's not what you said in the Whispering Woods, was it? I'd like to recall, it was _you_ who was downright _desperately aching_ for _my_ attention and touch. Not the other way round. I just did what had to be done.' A satisfied humming sound could be heard when Shadow Weaver got sight of her companion's rather exposed breasts. 'Traipsing around with a useless woman who's filling her mind with rather _distracting_ fantasies is not exactly something I tolerate. We had a duty and you're behaviour was threatening the mission, and in all honesty, it would've been a preferation of mine to let someone else take care of that peculiar condition of yours', she sneered in a disturbing calm. 'But, worse luck, I was the only one in reach...Though I must admit it _was_ quite comical.'

One free falling tear. Two tears. Three. Four.

'Indeed', Casta put herself off with her own cracked, shaky voice for which she internally cursed herself, 'it was quite comical how eager you were to touch me', she cleverly countered.

_Do not let her get through to you. Do not call for help. You do not need help. You have to do this on your own. Micah can't solve all your problems._

'Well toying around is rather pleasant, head sorceress', Castaspella could practically hear how Shadow Weaver smirked maliciously while teasing her back. 'In addition, I must say that I fancy how ferociously delicious it is to see how you yearn for me, how you eye me with scarlet cheeks, parted, wet lips, only _me_ filling your senses.', she scoffed in a dismissive way, 'Then again, how would you know what it is like when someone hungrily lusts after you? You're only a foolish, inexperienced, little _maiden.'_

Castaspella growled in frustration, and clenched her teeth. She was failing, and she knew it. The pain in her temples and abdomen was increasing every second.

'Do not call me that.'

_Keep it together._

'What was that? Use your words, head sorceress. I do not comprehend these primitive sounds. I am no animal', the dark magician scolded degradingly. 'I could get used to your visits though. It's excellent for blowing off some steam and it's especially entertaining when one gets to tease such an imbecile-'

' _Enough_.'

Another voice crack, three sobs and six tears later, Shadow Weaver _finally_ understood that she must've gone to far as her counterpart was almost slightly swaying and... crying.

The dark sorceress was never one for consoling others, but in that moment she almost felt blameworthy...sinful even. So she did what her intuition told her to. 

' _Castaspella_...', she called out and said enchantress felt her blood freeze. 

She pulled her robes closer to her body. 'W-What did you just call me?', she asked, somehow still able to talk inbetween gut-wrenching sobs, though her voice did sound adenoidal. Suddenly a clawed hand made its way to her damp cheek and lightly stroked it. It pulled her closer until she felt another hand...reassuringly squeezing her arm.

'I overdid the teasing, didn't I?', Shadow Weaver exclaimed pensively, as if it wasn't the clearest thing in the world and Castaspella could only respond with hiccups and cries, falling apart in the hands of the woman who was the sole reason of her breakdown.

 _I am so_ _pathetic_.

That afternoon, a thousand words were left unsaid. Neither spoke a word about their encounter. They knew they needn't. And neither slept that night, instead preferring to stand on their balconies, breathing in the chilly night air, contemplating what led up to all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm this is one I don't like as much, and it's pretty dark, but I needed something inbetween Shadow Weaver's arrival and her actually spending time with Casta. + I hurt my own feelings while writing this haha. Sooo hopefully the next one will be better (if I manage to write SW in character of course)❤


	6. Tea?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Casta prepares herself some tea.

Fathomless cruelty, that's the only acceptable way to describe the 'conversation' they had shared. Her family was right, she hadn't been ready. Nontheless the head sorceress, being as stobborn as she was, disregarded their counsel and had to find out the hard way that one does not simply visit Shadow Weaver in hopes of being treated respectfully, like something more than a simple creature. So, obviously, her attempt had failed and she was too ashamed to tell anyone. In addition to that there was the aspect of not wanting to rat on the dark sorceress (Casta was clueless as to why she she didn't want this), so she simply kept quiet, having her own reasons to do so.

5 days had passed and the enchantress had just woken up on a cloudy, but not rainy, Sunday morning, the birds were even chirping again, alas far away. Reluctantly, she stretched her limbs after stepping out of her warm bed into the less inviting, cool air, causing her to get goosebumps all over. It was still comparatively early so she settled on throwing her silky, indigo robes with little moons embroided on the collar around herself and getting into the matching slippers, both a gift from Micah, and silently left her room. So far, nearly the whole palace had seen her in her sleeping attire and at this point she didn't even care to dress into something uncomfortable for only the wee hours of the morning, when nobody would even be there to have a look at her.

A warm cup of tea to clear her senses from yet another sleepless night. That's what she was craving now. Hugging herself in order to warm up, she strolled through the corridors into the dining hall and, at last, arrived in the kitchen. After pinning her hair up into a messy bun she reached for the kettle and filled it up with water while audibly yawning. Then she put it on the stove and proceeded to search for a tea that would satisfy her, holding two glass jars filled with the needed leaves.

'Wait...so lavender ooorr oolong?... Hm...', she let her gaze shift from one jar to the other, narrowing her eyes and pursing her rosy lips.

'Try fig tea with a shot of date syrup.'

The icy voice pierced through Casta, startling her and almost impelling her to drop everything to her feet. With a gasp she placed the two jars on the counter for the sake of not endangering them any further by holding them in her sweaty hands. Whirling around with a fairly appaled expression, she crossed her arms and frowned. Unfortunately it was hard to seem unphased as the person across from her, dressed in her usual red cloak, had only a black veil covering half of her face, letting the penetrating emerald eyes and deep, dark scars that branded her grey skin come to light. Even if Shadow Weaver was at discomfort with half her face now exposed, there was no chance for Casta of perceiving this. The dark sorceress was a master of hiding her emotions after all.

'What are _you_ doing here? Have you been following me?', she hissed, trying to maintain as much space between them as possible. Her fury was swiftly resurfacing.

'The same as you. Searching for a drink.', was the self-explanatory answer given by the regal sorceress, leaving no room to argue.

A million thoughts shot through Castaspella's brain (half of them containing sort of inapprorpiate imaginations) and she didn't even notice herself intensely staring at the older woman. For the longest time, this was a wish of hers, to steal even the smallest glimpse at the real face, the humane face below the mask. It successfully distracted her from her upcoming outrage. Somehow it even eased her a bit and she relaxed, thanking her lucky stars that Shadow Weaver had chosen not to wear another full face covering which, admittedly, _was_ a bit daunting. Plus...She had something about her, maybe it was that mischievous, intelligent glint in her eyes that was rather charming.

_That's a normal thought, right?_

It was too unusual, the older woman was perplexed to say the least, and adopted Casta's way of dealing with the rather unnerving situation by eyeing her up and down, taking pleasure in how the woman's breath evidently sped up. A smirk played on her marred lips and for a quick moment she almost forgot how tense it made her feel to be without the security that her mask had provided her. She _had_ asked for another one, but Micah claimed that it wasn't fitting and offered her a veil instead, prompting that it would help her to slowly, but steadily come out of her shell, (whatever that was supposed to imply), and really, who was she to say no to her sweet, talented Micah.

'That gruesome?', she scoffed with a bittersweet smirk that was hidden under the black cloth. How could anyone ever stand to rest their eyes upon her without feeling their stomach turning? How could anyone understand? Castaspella would be no different. That imbecile with her flawless, milky skin had already almost burst out in tears during their expidition, when she only gained some small scratches on her perfect face after hilariously tripping. That was a sight she certainly wouldn't forget soon. 

However, it promised to be quite contradictory to Shadow Weaver's original expectations, as the younger woman unkowingly bat her eyelashes and seemed particularly fascinated and...smitten? Was that the word for describing that playful little spark in her eyes? Or was it narrow-minded? Childish?

'On the contrary. It's just...I never would've guessed that your face happens to be so contrasting to your nightmarish personality. It's fairly interesting to think about. I always imagined you to look more... _demonic_... but this... is a welcomed surprise.'

Barely showing her bemusement, created by this unforseen confession, the witch's eyebrows shot up. She decided fast that a cocky sounding 'I cannot fathom how Mystacor could _ever_ reckon you serious. Say, how long have you been filling that microscopic brain of yours with thoughts about my face?' would effectively disorient Casta. It turned out to be true that Shadow Weaver had gotten a rough grip on the other's mindset, given that her companion suddenly paused, utterly bewildered. 

The following, stretched silence was interrupted by the younger woman's deep sigh, symbolizing her annoyance. With her elbows now comfortably resting on the peach-coloured counter, she closed her eyes and threw her head back, an oppurtunity for the older woman to eye her with great... _interest_.

Without doubt, Castaspella had also learned something new from their last disastrous bickering. 'I'm really not in the mood to fight... I just wan't to know what you did to me. Honestly, it's bothering me, I can't keep-'

'Micah mentioned that you attended to my flowers.', Shadow Weaver stated matter of factly, but completely out of place, once again showing just how little she acknowledged Casta's wish to find out what exactly was wrong with her. 'Your work in my garden, expactantly, proved itself to be as amateurish as-'

The head sorceress glared and pressed her lips together in a thin line as her brows knitted together almost immediately. Not being able to repress it any longer, her anger boiled inside of her and it was showing clearly. 'When in the name of the First Ones will you stop being so apathetic! Seriously, every two seconds you attack me with your words. Enough is enough. Don't keep avoiding my questions and just _listen_ to me for once!'

'Oh would you look at that, someone's getting bold. It's such a shame you _still_ haven't thanked me...we could've been acquainteces by now. Micah desires for us to get along, you know? ', she snarled, taking a mug out of the drawer.

Clicking her tongue in combination with rolling her eyes, Castaspella registered that this was a useless aim to chat in the first place and instead concentrated on preparing to fill a small teabag with lavender when, at once, Shadow Weaver took hold of her wrist with ease and yanked her away. Maybe it shouldn't have been like that, but there was such a strangely natural feel to it. When she shoved the younger woman out of the way and shot her a quick, somewhat demeaning glance before bringing another jar, filled with the fig tea she mentioned prior, she could only smile to herself.

'Hey! You can't just-'

She lifted a hand to silence her. 'Yes, I can. I want you to at least try it. Knowing you, the flavour will be to your liking. It's sweet, similar to those... candied cherries you find tasteful... How are you not diabetic yet?'

And for one reason or another, Casta deemed this little detail, the dark sorceress remembering what she found tasteful, as something to feel flattered about, purposefully ignoring the comment about diabetes. She'd much preferably not ruin the... _atmosphere._

A sight for sore eyes, really. Shadow Weaver, the dark sorceress who was feared by so many, innocently placing tea leaves in her companion's teabag. Castaspella couldn't help but watch her every move, so uncharacteristically delicate. With tinted cheeks she involuntarily spoke a bit less abrasive than before. 'Wait, did you real-'

'Micah told me, you fool.', she drawled. 'Do you not comprehend? He wants us to reconcile. Do not force it to become more of a challange than it currently already is.'

Casta scoffed and attempted to stare daggers into the unbothered woman's face, still put off from how formidably hypnotizing she actually was. 'Oh please, it would be much less of a challenge if you'd simply comply and watch your mouth for once! And while you're doing that it would also be nice of you to apologise.' A dismissive wave of her hand only emphasised her point.

A spiteful laugh escaped Shadow Weaver, a haunting but exhilarating sound, brushing her veil around and causing the corners of her eyes to crinkle. 'You're such a boisterous gaiety, head sorceress. Eventually I can see why my magic chose _you_ to respresent a suitable match.' And the sharp but genuinely fond gaze she cast towards the enchantress made her heart and eyelids flutter wildly.

_Damn it!_

'A...A suitable match? What does that mean?', Casta breathed out and leaned in a bit, as if to share a secret only meant for the both of them. She was close enough for Shadow Weaver to be able to sniff her dizziyingly sweet, and _oh godness_... **_floral_** odour and develop some sort of urge to pull the younger woman flush against her to continue smelling her, but with what little self-restraint there was left, she hindered herself from performing anything she'd regret later. Nevertheless it was an intimate moment, such as the ones they enjoyed in the Whispering Woods, the concept of personal space foreign to them.

'I deserve to know. Please tell me.'

It _was_ her right to know and Shadow Weaver was becoming painfully aware of how the head sorceress was practically _longing_ for a response, and in all honesty, she herself was getting tired of the unneeded secrecy. But now was not the time. She herself missed essential details.

'Wait a bit, will you? It's fairly complicated...and can be a lot, especially for someone as inept as you...'

Remarkably, it wasn't meant to sound insulting this time. Merely a much clearer form of teasing. Recognizing this, Casta flashed a coy smile and as if on cue, her robe slipped off her shoulder, granting the other woman a particularly lovely view. Whether the brown-eyed woman purposely bent forward to expose herself just a tad further, was something she'd never disclose, but it might've as well been the last kick to set the wheels in motion. An inescapable, bumpy ride that neither of the two sorceresses had signed up for was bound to begin. 

And so, acting on the invitation, Shadow Weaver gingerly placed her hand on Casta's shoulder which compelled the other woman to shudder and obediently part her lips, her skin burning all over. They drew each other in. The dark sorceress was nearly erupting into laughter once more, recognizing the tingle in her fingertips when touching her companion. 

_It's similar to magic...Whatever this is..._

Soon the spell was broken by the kettle's deafening whistle, inducing the two women to crash back into the real world and jolt away from each other, followed by a small squawk that left Casta's mouth. Both of their faces now a few hues darker then prior, they fell silent, a certain stiffness washing over them.

_Well.... such a blessing that this damn thing went off..._

Shadow Weaver cleared her throat in an attempt to compose herself, favourably, it wasn't all too hard to do. On the other hand, Castaspella was a stirred up mess, energetically endeavoring to lift her robe up and cover herself from the astute gaze could clearly feel.

_How embarrasing..._

The blasted kettle was gently lifted up by the older sorceress, only to be snatched away mere seconds later. Just as Shadow Weaver was about to fire a harsh remark at Casta, the younger woman preemted and flashed her a frolic smile. 'Allow me to do it. You already prepared the tea bags...and sharing the work is more fun.'

'I see.', The older woman cocked an eyebrow, a momentarily provocative gesture, and smirked back at her after grabbing another mug, setting it down next to her own, moderately bumping Casta's full, curvy hips to her own bony ones. In an instant, the enchantress took notice and filled the tea pot with the bags, pouring the boiling water into it as well while forwardly murmuring. 'Will you be joining me in...my chambers?'

The dark magician's ear twitched with interest. 'Ever the exeptionally polite host. Drinking my morning tea with you, head sorceress, would be quite humouring.', was the witty answer and they shared a quick expression of keen familiarity that they wouldn't have deemed possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is it so far? I feel like I'm rushing it a bit. Feel free to criticise me, and thank you for reading!❤


	7. Try Some Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Casta and Shadow Weaver sit together in peace only to be disrupted by an oblivious Micah.

'I'll knit you something as well! A burgundy sweater for the cold days to come, how about that?', Castaspella asked enthusiastically. Her hystercial laugh filled the room and she had to make an effort to not spill sugary tea all over herself. Shadow Weaver could merely smirk and raise her brow while shaking her head and sipping the wine she had acquired half an hour ago. 'I'd rather not walk around in such a hideous creation, head sorceress. Who knows what that silly little mind of yours would come up with? Probably a sweater decorated with a huge snowflake pattern or something of the like. And judging by your face I can tell that's _exactly_ what you considered.'  
  
Pursing her lips, the head sorceress let her eyes roam the older woman's ripped cloak, already brainstorming what else she could dress her up in. 'Oh but the winter solistice is coming up and a sweater has got to be suiting for the occasion!'  
  
They were obviously a lot more comfortable around each other now, having spent the entire morning together, drinking their beverages and chatting, bickering and sometimes not even speaking at all, only enjoying the welcomed silence that eveloped them in their own little world. To the witch's surprise, Castaspella wasn't that much of a pain in the ass, and she quickly found herself playfully teasing her companion in hopes of making her laugh and giggle gleefully.

Why? Because she found it cheerful.

The childlike energy Casta practically radiated was somewhat infatuating, even if the dark soreceress wouldn't ever admit it. In turn Castaspella was also more than happy to be on better terms with the woman she found harrowing and enraging just mere days ago. With admiration she listened to whatever Shadow Weaver was in the mood to talk about, resting her chin on her hand, brown eyes fixed on her expressive, emerald green ones.  
  
Then Casta's laugh slowly ebbed away before finishing completely. The longer she stared the more she noticed herself floating into something scary and unkown, the feeling quickly subsiding the moment Shadow Weaver's hand brushed hers, taking the cup to refill her tea. Nevertheless, a few seconds later she was lost in space again, eyes resting on random places, black lashes fluttering in an uncontrolled manner. Shadow Weaver, being the attentive woman she was, immediately distinguished Castaspella's strange behaviour and pulled her out of whatever bizarre state she swum in by placing her hand on her knee, reminiscent of their time in the Whispering Woods.  
  
'I've seen that face before... You seem to be dissociating from reality again. Everything is fine. The war has ended and everyone is safe.' , she murmured in a tone so soft she herself didn't even know she was capable of speaking in.  
  
With an innocent smile tugging at her lips the enchantress averted her gaze back to the older woman. 'No, I'm fine... just a bit tired. Thanks for... caring?'  
  
A scoff resonated as soon as the last word left Casta's mouth. ' _Caring_ , hm? No... I only promised Micah to look out for you, to document whether anything unusual happens to you, since... there's still dark magic inflicted in your system.'  
  
Not wanting to ruin their mood with this twitchy topic, the younger woman swiftly put on a bright façade again, pointing at the glass in Shadow Weaver's hand. 'It's so strange that you're drinking wine at this hour, Shadow Weaver. We barely passed noon and it might be a bit early for consuming alcohol, don't you think so?' , she attempted to sound cocky and authoritative, but failed, having to grin at her intriguing companion.  
  
'Oh...dear maiden... It's never too early for calming my nerves with fine wine. You should take a mouthful, hm?', she drawled in response, swirling the red liquid around and giving Casta a playful side-eye.  
  
Waving her hands dismissively, the head sorceress showed that she had no interest. 'Ah... No, I'll pass, I don't drink, thank you.'  
  
Well that was something Shadow Weaver certainly didn't contemplate earlier. 'You don't? How come?'  
  
'The taste of alcohol is...well, it makes me nauseous.' ,she shrugged, albeit subconsciously licking her lips at the thought. This didn't fail to catch the older woman's eye, compelling her to hold her glass out. 'Head sorceress, this one is of high quality, I ask you to at least test it.' 

And without giving her time to protest, she pressed the glass to Casta's mouth, who reluctantly gulped the wine down. The red colour stained her plump lips in a somewhat enkindling fashion, creating a bonny polairty to her pale skin. While the dark sorceress was busy observing this as if they were the most tantalizing sight she witnessed for a while, the younger woman simply grimaced, a shudder running through her. 'Out of the two things you made me try today this one is definitely the worse one. How does one even _drink_ this garbage?'  
  
'You have absolutely no idea, head sorceress.', Shadow Weaver snarled , but the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes betrayed her firmness, matching the crinkling of Casta's nose when she twinkled back at her. 'Each to their own. By the way... You can call me by my given name, you know. I'm more than just my title. Though I must say I take great pride in being head sorceress, there's no need to be formal here.'  
  
_Is this crossing boundaries?_  
  
Hadn't they been crossing boundaries all along?  
  
Before she was able to answer, erratic footsteps could be heard and soon after Micah rushed into the living area the two sorceresses were located in, succesfully startling them. With a beaming grin plastered on his visibly reddened face he rambled 'Casta can you fill up another two cups of tea please?'  
  
The adressed person slowly turned her head towards the dark sorceress, displaying her confusion by furrowing her brows. Shadow Weaver absentmindedly clasped the younger woman's hand, protectively pressing it a bit. 'Don't stress yourself. I don't want you to get up now.' The touch lingered a bit, causing the enchantress to become flustered, her eyes never leaving their joined hands even after the witch removed hers.  
  
'Micah what happened? Are you alright?', Casta asked instead of dwelling on this meaningless little gesture, her eyes now full with worry.  
  
He continued jabbering, oblivious to the intimate touches between the two women. 'Bunny listen, two weeks ago I sent an invitation to someone who _might_ have an idea what to do about that magic that is still in you! I mean...since...uhh...', he attempted to approach the demoralizing facts in a more sensitive way. 'You don't know how to do it... and my magic is not used to the dark realms...and Shadow Weaver lost almost all of her abilities... uh, yeah...But now they're here!' At that his former mentor frowned as she nonchalantly eyed Micah's excitement. She stayed silent. This was not her place to defend her delibitated capacity, even if she was offended. Micah could only nervously scratch a non-existing itch on his neck and felt bad for weighing down on them.  
  
Casta weakly huffed. She didn't want to cause anyone trouble and was almost ashamed that her brother had felt the need to bring another person to solve this mess. She would eventually be able to fix it herself. Besides, how would they know if they could confide in them? What was Micah getting himself into in order to 'free' her from something that didn't even notably bother her anymore. It was unnecessary and risky on top of that. Was it a deal maybe? What if it was someone twisted and evil-minded? Hopefully they didn't toy with Micah's mind... He could be so naive at times, never awaiting how utterly perverse some people were.

'Why didn't you tell-'  
  
Her train of thought was interrupted when ths guards stepped in, announcing the arrival of the unkown...guest.

Barely a minute passed before a small, exuberant and simultaneaously confident person veiled with the most exotic looking colours Castaspella had ever beheld, could be spotted. It was a wonderous sight, and judging by their stance, the person's nature seemed mysterious but otherwise cordial. Perhaps it was just the effect of all the saturated, fetching patterns that their clothes were embroided with. No face could be seen. Only two striking, pitch-black eyes, combined with bushy brows in the hues of boysenberries. The head sorceress had to blink to be able to get used to the unusual view that was presented. It was a lot. Maybe even _too much_.

With a friendly nudge the stranger ushered the guards away, patiently waiting until they were out of sight. Shadow Weaver began pouring the tea, not paying them any mind at all, contrary to Casta who was frozen to her spot. The guest unwound themselves, starting with the thick, tyrian cloak, then they moved on with two mustard and teal headscarfs, revealing a curly mane of the same purplish colour as their eyebrows.

Micah was barely able to contain his happiness and Casta was forming a vague idea of the undressing person's identity.

Lastly, they slipped off their veil along with their face cover. It was a woman, slightly younger than Micah. Tanned skin, an upturned nose and luscious, full lips adorned by a trademark devilish smirk were strong indicator's of who she might be. The image caused Castaspella's pupils to expand when the realisation hit her.

_Yes, it could only be her._

'Your majesty...', she mocked in an amused voice while politely bowing to Micah who patted her shoulder, signifying that no bows were needed. Their next moves though, came rather unexpected as she suddenly pressed two tender kisses to his cheeks, followed by Micah doing the same. If Shadow Weaver hadn't been her composed self, she would've certainly stared with her mouth agape. Awaiting that her companion was most likely reacting this way, she slowly shifted her eyes towards Castaspella who was visibly somehow discombobulated with the display of affection at hand. Nevertheless, she set her cup aside and stood up with a fluent motion, grinning from ear to ear while taking the woman's hands in her own. 'I...I'm _honored_ Madam Selani, Micah told me so much about you! It's so refreshing to finally be able to meet you!'

'Oh please, your majesty...You needn't call me that, Hirma will do just fine', she cooed, while her eyes narrowed with reverence and kindness. Shadow Weaver flashed them a quick glance, being summoned by Casta's spirited way of addressing the woman. Madam Selani promised to be particularly devoted to showing her affection and the head sorceress seemed to be perfectly fine with being lulled in by her. A degrading scoff escaped the dark magician. Her grip on the pot's handle grew tighter.

_Just like I remember her, **shamelessly** wrapping people around her finger._

Still, she clutched tighter.

Hirma gave a shrewd grin and brazenly pressed a kiss to the corner of Casta's mouth, who looked like her eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, her face portraying a mix of emotions between apalled and utterly charmed.

_Alright, **that's it**._

With a loud clatter the handle broke from the intensity of the dark magician's beserk grasp, that probably could've snapped a person's neck, propelling the pot to clash with the marble floor beneath her feet. The impact shattered it into dozens of pieces, spilling and spurting the tea everywhere. In shock, everyone's heads flew towards the source of this mishap. 

Shadow Weaver's hand shook fiercly as she was still applying pressure, squeezing the porcelaine shards deeper and deeper into her own palm until her skin tore and increasingly bigger droplets of dark crimson blood ran down her wrist and hit the light ground, creating a gruesome contrast.

_That's it, Selani._

**_That's. It._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what to think of this one. Regardless of whether this chapter is a total flop or not, I wanted to post something in order to be able to tell you that I hope that you all had a lovely Christmas. Come get y'all's kissessss💋


	8. Dispute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the situation gets kinda personal.

* * *

'I'll be damned, is that not Light- ah, pardon me, Shadow Weaver?', she asked, curving a perfect brow while leveling said sorceress a somewhat smug grin that practically radiated equableness. In turn Shadow Weaver chose to stare daggers into Hirma, her emerald orbs darkening in a rather venomous fashion. A person who was in their right mind would've averted their eyes, but not Hirma, who was obviously expecting the older woman to at least retort. To her displeasure no answer was given, only a deep, gutural growl which caused Micah's gaze to shift to and fro from his friend to his former mentor. Hopefully they weren't going to fly at each other's throats...  
  
Ignoring their strange conflict, Castaspella immediately rushed to the witch's side with shaking hands that reached out and grabbed her bloody wrist, fear spread out on her face.  
'Sh-Shadow Weaver! Oh First Ones...Oh Stars - what did you _do_?', she stumbled over her own words, already choking up with worry which was bubbling up inside her chest. But the older woman remained unfazed, only loosening her clutching claw when the head sorceress gently rubbed her knuckles, encouraging her to accept the help. Just as Micah was also about to lend them a hand Hirma took hold of his elbow, stopping him and giving him a glance only the both of them understood. The dark sorceress was still not forgiven. His friend would remind him of this ever so often with a flicker of dominance in her gaze.  
  
Castaspella was rather oblivious and payed full attention to her hurt companion. The dark magician's wound had a fairly nasty shape to it, sticky, dark-red blood created strings between her long fingers and her palm was marred with the porcelain pieces which seemed to have burried themselves in deep thanks to the preassure that Shadow Weaver had applied to them. A puddle, albeit small, was beginning to form underneath her and Casta, who was getting nauseous and could only panic, diging her fingers into the injured woman's robes.  
  
 _I have to heal her..._  
  
'Could you _please_ not ignore me! I'm trying to help you. Give me your hand, I'll just-'  
  
'No. Neither do I want nor do I need your help. My abilities haven't entirely vanished such as _some people_ appear to be thinking they have', Micah visibly shrunk back, noticing that it was a subtle hint directed to him. 'I'm fine. It was a mishap. I did not mean to destroy the tea pot' ,she exlaimed calmly although the fire behind her words was evident. It made no sense to Castaspella, who thought that the older woman was acting this way due to one of her own errors. But she wouldn't let her gain the satisfaction of pushing her around this time, so she stressed on with knitted eyebrows and a determined expression 'We don't care about that stupid pot. You're _injured_!... Does it not hurt in the slightest? Come on, you helped me in the forest, now it's my turn.'  
  
'Are you _daft_? I did not help in hopes of receiving a favor in turn from you. I helped because I made a promise. Now stop caressing my hand and get out of my way. It's fatiguing to keep pretending to be kind to someone as ridiculous as you.'  
  
She didn't have a clue why she decided to push Castaspella's buttons in order to cope with the painful throbbing of her hand, yet she did it, nudging the first dominoe. An escalation was bound to occur at some point, nevertheless, it was quite relieving to poison the younger woman with her anger, to stoke up a feud and watch her eyes become glassy with passion.  
  
As predicted, Castaspella didn't let this sit on herself and spat out the first remark that swirled around her mind in the fit of pique. ' _You_ 're ridiculous for thinking anyone would ever care enough about you to help you on their own accord.'  
  
 _Ouch_. Hirma and Micah visibly cringed.  
  
'Ah... I recall this differently. Wasn't it a promise of yours to tend to me after the war ended? Did you not _moan_ and _whine_ about this while you let my tongue explore your mouth, hm?', she sneered, her voice a bit strained yet humiliating as ever. Unfortunately her façade of indifference crumbled away when she languidly grasped her hand, involuntarily indicating the rising ache.

A deadly silence fell over the room while Castaspella flinched at the cruel and harsh comment. Frankly, she did experience some sort of sharp pain inside even if she didn't want to allow herself to become tarnished by anything this bitter woman threw at her head. The tension was almost palpable as it didn't cross her mind to actually move aside as ordered. Hirma observed everything with caution, studying the way these two interacted with each other. Interfering promised to represent the best option or else a destructive storm might tear everything apart. She was not in the mood for ludicrous disputes and neither was Micah, who had taken on an uncharacteristic frown which pulled his face down in disgust and mortification.

'That's quite enough, Shadow Weaver-', Hirma commenced, stalking into the dark magician's sight, right next to Castaspella, as if to knowingly send her over the edge again. Shadow Weaver simply rolled her eyes and shoved both of them aside rather unceremoniously, staining the head sorceresses' periwinkle gown with her blood, forgetting that the latter's brother was in the room with them.

At once Micah's unusually stern voice rang through the room. 'I won't let you talk to my sister like this. And I most certainly won't let you touch her and shame her with your sick accusations.' Shadow Weaver's striking eyes found his mellow ones, causing her gaze to soften in a beat, he held it without hesitation, but it was a challange for her to fight with him. She still adored him even if he didn't feel the same love and admiration for her as he used to in his younger years.  
  
'Micah...' , an almost warm-hearted call. 'Micah... it clearly irks you when I put it like this...but you know neither me nor your sister wouldn't ever tell you lies even if the topic is something as distasteful as this...it's the truth, not an accusation.'  
  
'Can you tell me what the hell compelled you to do that then?', he ran a hand through his greying hair, a sign of his frustration. 'Seriously, since I found out I've been trying to push this aside and never think of it again because it is irritating and... and revolting! Yet you are rubbing it in my, and more importantly, in _her_ face as if it's the most normal thing in the world', his eyes stung at the attempt to hold the tears back. 'I hoped- honestly, I thought I could retrieve a small part of Light Spinner, but you keep on disappointing me', the addressed person fell completely silent. 'Please, I only ask of you to fix whatever you did to Casta... then I want you to leave.'

With a shuddering exhale he reached for Castaspella's hand who only stared at the ground and gulped. A pearly tear was caught in her long lashes and she swiftly tried to blink it away. She didn't even pick up Micah's attempt to soothe her.  
  
 _No time for appearing weak now. She did this once - **twice** already... it's enough. I'm not below her!_  
  
Her head shot up in determination and she launched towards Shadow Weaver, rooting herself infront of the dark sorceress, faces mere inches apart, causing auburn eyes to met bilious green ones. Their confontration resembled those of a regal lioness pursuing her equally as magnificent looking antelope. It was breathtakingly dangerous and unnerving, yet at the same time... _intriguing_. Ignoring the deriding expression was hard, but the head sorceress somehow managed to view her tauntingly, proving herself.  
  
'You're not welcome here. My brother is right, I _won't_ let you speak to me like this. Neverthless we're generous enough to keep you here and not cast you aside such as you'd deserve. As a matter of fact, we even supplied you shelter. Now be a grateful prisoner and play your part. When you've finished doing that, I kindly ask of you to never cross my path again',she hissed bravely through gritted teeth although her balled-up fists were shaking and her knuckles had already turned white. A faint blush crept up her defined cheekbones, her milky skin heated up in a feverish fashion. What she didn't realize though was that she had struck a nerve, prompting Shadow Weaver to, matter of factly, struggle to keep herself together and not go postal.  
  
'Your _majesty_ ', she started, imitating Hirma mockingly. It wasn't funny though. It was ice cold, enough to freeze one's blood. 'You are very well aware that I'm no prisoner and you rely on me, _forsooth_. Only _I_ am in the clear about what happened to you. Nothing hinders you. Throwing me aside _could_ be an option, albeit a very preposterous one', she continued while gently fixing Casta's collar, occasionally letting her sharp nails graze her neck, reminding the younger woman of what she was capable. 'Then again, something such as this would suit your wits, wouldn't it? I never requested to be here in the first place, however I perceive you do not realize that you might only have a few weeks left of your precious, meaningless life'.

Micah, who was thoroughly grossed out by the whole shebang, felt his breath hitch in his throat. A painful, knee jeek reaction.

_A few weeks? What?_

His sister on the other hand, did not seem surprised at all and simply blinked innocently. 'You do not have the memories of everything that happened to me. Don't act as if you're above us all. Scaring me won't work, we don't know for a fact how long I have left to live. It's written in the stars.'

_Did she know all along?_

'Now, now... be a careful and considerate little enchantress and stop stepping on my toes, will you? Perhaps you're lucky and I'll provide you some information about manners and...hm, _magic_ as well?', she jarred, simultaneously running her good claw through the dark locks of Castaspella, whose eyes had obtained a somewhat misty film.

'Wouldn't that be splendid, my dear, if someone taught you manners?...'

If the younger woman wouldn't have known better she would've thought that this honey-coated threat actually embodied praise, solely judging by her tone. She was about to give in and gladly let herself be fondled by her opponent, a literal siren, if Hirma hadn't popped the bubble they swam in at the right second.

'Ahem...I'm sorry to... to disrupt but I need to borrow Castaspella. We need to speak in private. Plus, Micah and I aren't exactly fans of the...', she gestured between them, clearly upset, ' _tension_ you two have created.'

'I'll follow you at once... Just hang on a second', a concentrating Castaspella muttered, already drawing the needed spell and letting her own hand hover over the dark magician's injured palm. In a matter of seconds the wound healed, though not entirely. It also worked like a painkiller, nothing big really, but be that as it may, Shadow Weaver was still somewhat astonished. She flexed her claw, testing whether the spell hade done its job, which, surprisingly, was exactly the case.

It would've been uncharacteristic of her to just let this slide, so she predictably prepared to drop a cynical remark, quickly discarding it once her healer nearly collapsed into her arms. At the very moment Micah and Hirma, who were both absolutely frightened, cried out to Castaspella, the dark sorceress lifted her hand, signaling that they shouldn't come closer.

'She's fine', with a vexed expression she turned to inconspiciously examine the frail woman in her arms while holding her close. 'You fool... didn't I demand you not to help me? Look how it drained you!'

'Sh...ut up...', Casta sighed, audibly annoyed and exhausted. 'Just...shut up...either thank me or say...', she swallowed a non-existing lump in her throat 'nothing at all...'

'Well...I suppose...' , it clearly pained her in a way when she rolled her eyes and scowled

'I owe you a favor...' 

Such a forced response, but to Casta it was enough. Enough to make her cast a heart-warming little smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year my lovely people!!💕✨


End file.
